Power Games
by MisfiredSynapse
Summary: Everything was far too quiet, far too easy. We probably should have known something was wrong from the second we breached that house and descended into the basement. SR/OC. *Two-Shot* Canon typical violence.
1. Power Games

_\- Part 1 of 2 -_

 **Warnings: Minor violence, CLOWNS, emotional manipulation/torment, gun play, intimidation, death**

Everything was far too quiet, far too easy. We probably should have known something was wrong from the second we breached that house and descended into the basement. The basement door was made of steel. We could hear the team shouting _clear_ from above us as they searched the rest of the house. I hovered two or three steps behind Reid, my gun lowered but my flashlight raised to sweep the cluttered room. At the foot of the stairs, we stood side-by-side, peering in the beams of our flashlights. Clown masks hung from the walls, the shadows enhancing their grotesque features, and I felt my breath shudder out.

"This is definitely the guy," I whispered, my stomach rolling. I hated clowns. Seeing this room full of their shells was rapidly sending it to the top of my most hated places. "What a total creep... who even likes clowns this much?"

Reid's laugh was shaky, but there. "Get the lights," he mumbled, still standing at the foot of the stairs. I nodded and backed up, turning halfway to get back to the door. I stepped back into the house just in time to see my worst nightmares come true.

Across the hall, a bookcase swung open to show a hidden passage we hadn't known about. A clown in a blood soaked jumpsuit stared me down and I froze in terror, unable to even draw breath to scream as he lunged at me. The punch sent me rolling back down the stairs to the basement; Reid turned and cried my name as I sprawled on the ground. Above us, the basement door slammed shut and we were plunged into darkness.

-/-

I woke slowly, groggy and feeling like I'd been hit with a truck. Blinking, my eyes soon focussed on the scene before me and the terror was like a shot of pure adrenaline. Reid was tied to a chair, gagged, and bleeding from a cut just above his left ear.

"Oh, good," a cold voice caught my attention. The Unsub grinned at me from his perch on a bench three feet away. He held a gun and had it trained on me, though I figured that was more for Reid's obedience than mine. "I'm so glad you're awake... I was getting bored."

I shuddered. We'd profiled this guy as a childlike sadist... we knew he played with his victims before he killed them. We were still in his clown-filled basement, lit by a single bare bulb in a table lamp in the middle of the floor. "You okay?" I looked at Reid, ignoring the Unsub for long enough to see Reid nod. His wide eyes told a different story.

"Don't worry about _him,_ " the Unsub snapped. "I'm the one with a gun, remember?"

As if I could forget, I wanted to say. He waved the end of my service weapon in my face, his finger poised on the trigger. I froze, my skin turning to stone as the fear crept up my spine. "Are you going to use it?" I asked, the words blurting out before I could stop them.

The laughter made me want to throw up. "Not if you're a good girl," the Unsub coddled, jumping off the desk to approach me. I stayed completely still, wondering if I was about to die. I wasn't afraid to die... I was afraid of what watching my death would do to Reid. The Unsub stroked my face with my gun, tilting his head as if he were innocently studying me. "I have a little test for you. If you pass, I'll let one of yougo."

I didn't need to ask what happened to the other. There were five bodies that told me that very clearly. "Him," I said, my voice surprisingly firm for how terrified I was. "You let him go." I didn't look at Reid, fearing the expression on his face.

The Unsub pouted at me mockingly. "How cute," he simpered, looking between me and Reid. "Do you _care_ about him?" I twitched as he moved the gun back at Reid and I clenched my fists, resisting the urge to tackle the Unsub for the gun. My head was still pounding and my body ached; I was in no condition to fight a kitten, let alone a full grown man twice my size.

"Yes," I replied, my voice level.

The Unsub stood behind Reid, not touching but menacing. Ready to strike if I messed up. "Do you... _love him?"_

Taken aback, I pressed my lips tightly together. I doubted the Unsub could guess at what my silence meant. I knew Reid knew. He was an excellent profiler but more than that, he was a personal friend and if anyone could pick up on my non-verbal clues it was him. My secret, the one I'd been working so hard to hide, was exposed in those few seconds of hesitation.

The Unsub twisted the knot of Reid's gag, tightening it. "Answer me!" he demanded. Reid struggled but it was helpless and I felt my terror levels peak at a new high.

"Yes!" I cried, blinking back tears. "Yes, alright!" the Unsub twisted the knot further and my heart dropped to the floor in desperation. "Stop it! You're hurting him!"

Reid coughed into the gag when he was released. The Unsub stormed across the room to me and I flinched as he raised a hand as if to strike me. At the last second, he stopped and gave me a toothy, predatory grin. "Every time you disobey, he gets hurt," he hissed.

I met Reid's eyes, forcing myself to do so. I couldn't read his expression through the tears in my eyes and I didn't honestly care to. I could hear him coughing still, stretching his head to try and loosen the gag. His lips were slowly turning blue and the realisation hit me like a physical blow. The gag was too tight. Reid was choking.

The Unsub had moved back to leaning against his desk, watching me closely. "He can't breathe," I snapped, fearing the reaction but unable to stop myself. My concern for Reid outweighed my fear for myself at that point. "Let me ungag him and I'll do whatever you want."

The Unsub cocked his head at me, still holding me in place with the end of my own gun. I could hear Reid's breathing growing more tormented with every second. I glared at the Unsub, staring him down though I knew very well who had all the power here. Clue: I was not it.

"Fine," he snapped at length, and swung the gun to Reid's head. "You interrupt our game one more time, and I'll shoot you," he snarled.

I cleared my throat and he aimed at me again. Oddly, I preferred him aiming at me than at Reid. At least I knew the Unsub wouldn't kill me so long as I was playing his game. I stood between the gun and Reid as I untied his gag, pulling it from his mouth as tears sprung to my eyes. "I'm so sorry, Spencer," I whispered, pressing my forehead against his. I didn't have much time like this. Reid gasped and I watched his eyes close, the tears on his face mimicking mine. He let his breath out in a ragged exhale, shaking his head as if to try and comfort me.

The sound of a clicking gun had me standing up straight. The Unsub gestured for me to step away and I took a single step to the left, glaring defiantly. I refused to move myself further. He let out a disappointed sigh and shook his head at me. "You're boring," he said flatly.

The world slowed down and my breath escaped me in a soft cry of _"No!"_

Reid's face went white as the Unsub's face hardened.

His arm steadied, the gun swinging away from my head.

My mind blanked as I felt myself moving.

 _ **Bang.**_

Something thudded into my side, feeling like a full-force kick in the gut. I stumbled, my hand reaching to soothe the pain blossoming on my lower stomach; it came away wet, coated in red. Around me, Reid's scream faded... and silence rang in my ears as I hit the ground with a lifeless thud.


	2. Recovery

_\- Part 2 of 2 -_

 **Warnings: Mentions of a hostage situation, survivor's guilt, memory loss. It's pretty mild compared to the first part.**

Pain.

It was the first thing to hit me.

It's like I was drowning in a fog of blackness and voices, and each time I tried to drag myself out, every nerve in my body decided to wail in protest. It started in my side, just above my right hip, with heat. It quickly felt like someone was putting out a wild fire with my body, the agony coursing through my joints. I tried to move, to blink, to scream... I heard my name called faintly from somewhere to my left... a flicker of light.

My eyes were open.

The realisation hit me like a runaway train; and as if that had been the spark I needed, the rest of me slammed back into reality with a tidal wave of nausea I had to squeeze my eyes shut against until it went away.

"Can you hear me?"

Emily? What was she doing here?

She was holding my hand, stroking the hair away from my face. What the hell happened to me? Cautiously, I opened my eyes again. The room was stark white and blurry, my eyes stung from how bright it was. Slowly, my vision cleared and I could make out the wide windows, the teal-green leather couch that looked saggy and slightly careworn, and the rails above and around my bed on which a blue curtain hung... A hospital room.

"Hey," Emily was there, hovering above me. The moment I saw her I crumbled like a lost child, tears springing up to burn my dry eyes, my throat scorching with the effort of sobbing. I reached for her- my limbs felt like lead and ice, incredibly cold and incredibly hard to move- and she swamped me, leaning over my body and hugging me loosely, but no less lovingly. She was trying her best not to hurt me. "You're okay, I got ya," she whispered, and I could feel her crying too.

"Emily," I tried to say, but my voice was indistinguishable. I took a deep breath, and raised a shaky hand to touch my lips. My fingers brushed against something plastic in my nose; for a minute, I panicked, before the realisation of being hospitalised set in and I figured it was breathing tubes. Why did I need breathing tubes? I wasn't sick, was I? Had there been an accident? I could remember very, very little...

Emily pulled away and adjusted the bed, calling for a nurse as she did so. There was a plastic cup of water on the end table, a yellow straw sitting in wait. Had they known I'd wake up today? Or had that been sitting there for hours, waiting? I tried to hold the cup for myself, and Emily shook her head. "You're not strong enough yet, honey. Let the morphine wear off."

Morphine? God, if I was on morphine, why did waking up hurt so much? I sipped the water, barely enough to soothe my parched throat, and longed to just drink the rest. Emily took the cup away and I licked my lips, eying it up. She picked up on my line of sight and smiled. "You have to take it slowly."

I nodded and closed my eyes, moving my tongue around my mouth. I tasted horrible. I needed water, a mint, a toothbrush. "Emily... what happened?" Bloody hell. It had never taken so much effort to talk before. I felt exhausted and I'd barely strung a sentence together.

Emily studied my face, before she reached for my hand. I was grateful for the contact. "What do you remember?" she asked softly. I felt like one of our victims... it was an odd feeling, though technically I _was_ one.

Closing my eyes, I backtracked through my memories. "Garcia found us an address..." I murmured, recalling the grim look Hotch gave us as we geared up to head out. "Morgan drove. JJ was there... me and Reid in the back. I was nervous... Reid and I went to the basement together. It was dark, smelled like mothballs and moss... it was full of clown masks. I went back up to turn on the lights and..." I trailed off, the memory becoming blurry. "The bookcase moved..."

Looking at Emily, I shrugged my shoulders. She gave me a torn expression and I felt my heart sink quickly. By the look on her face, I could tell there was so much I was missing. Instead of keeping quiet, Emily stood up to shut the door so nobody could overhear. "The bookcase was the door to the panic room. The Unsub wanted to go out with a bang so he waited until we were far enough away before coming out. You were on the landing and he pushed you down the stairs, locked you and Reid in the basement..."

"Is Reid okay?" I asked quickly, not knowing why I reacted with such fear at hearing that he'd been involved.

Emily nodded. "He's a little banged up but he's fine. The Unsub had you both down there for over two hours. Reid didn't tell us exactly what happened, only that you... were incredibly brave. Very stupid-" Emily's expression sharpened and I tried not to grin too much- "- but if it weren't for your courage, things would have been much worse..."

"He shot me, didn't he?"

Her face darkened. "Yes," she said lowly.

-/-

Emily had only left to call the team with the good news before returning to my side, filling me in on what I couldn't remember. I was grateful that she didn't treat me like I was something delicate. She knew what I could handle and she was careful to never push me beyond my limits.

She told me how Reid had broken out of his ropes when I'd been shot. He dove for cover and the team had burst in; Hotch took down the Unsub, and Reid was holding me, trying to stop me from bleeding. Emily glossed over describing the scene when I went pale, imagining the chaos and the fear they'd all felt.

My team had taken turns to give me a bedside vigil, so I wouldn't be alone when I woke up. I'd never felt closer to each and every one of them.

They filed in that afternoon to see me. Reid was first. He came skidding through the door and froze, eyes wide and on me as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. Morgan was a close second, and soon took up residence on Emily's chair, as JJ, Hotch and Rossi filed in one after the other, glancing around the room positioning themselves around me like a guard of honour.

Nobody spoke. I don't think anybody really knew what to say. The fact that they were there was more than enough for me and I broke the silence after minutes of staring at one another. "If one of you don't hug me in the next three seconds, I'll go back to sleep," I grumbled, my grin taking the sting out of the words. Morgan was first, shaking his head as he all but crushed me in his arms.

"Glad you're okay, kid," he whispered, mussing my hair when he pulled back. JJ followed, then Hotch and Rossi and Emily snuck in another hug before they mumbled something about needing coffee and paperwork, and filed out to leave me alone in the room with Reid. He took the only seat in the room, hanging his head.

He still wasn't looking at me as he held out his hand, seeking mine. "Can I?"

"Of course," I said incredulously, and he held my hand gently in his own, as if I would break. "I'm glad you're okay," I mumbled softly, squeezing his hand lightly. He shouldn't feel guilty. He made so many lives that much brighter... guilt had no place in Spencer Reid's life.

He shuffled the chair closer, leaning his elbows on the side of my bed. His gaze dropped to the drip in my other hand, then to the bandages peeking out of the blankets where my top had ridden up. Visibly, he swallowed and forced himself to look at my face again, ignoring the wound. "You saved my life," he whispered. Before I could process what he was doing, he stood up and kissed my forehead gently, squeezing my shoulder as he did so. "Thank you," he whispered against my skin.

My heart raced again. "Spencer, I..." I whispered back, tilting my head to meet his gaze. We were both crying and the words I had planned to say died before I could form them. He didn't need me to verbalise what I was thinking; Reid could profile me as easily as he could recite the numerals of Pi. I didn't need to say a word, because he knew what I wanted to say.

"I know," he said quietly, his eyes on mine. "Me too."

Spencer stayed with me all night, and didn't once let go of my hand.


End file.
